Post by kieladar on Feb 6, 2014 21:39:10 GMT -8
Day 1
The air on Indar is so damn hot. Everything is hot. Hell, there's only one damn place on this piece of shit continent that has green on it. And figures that the Vanu have that part of it, for now at least.
Anyway. The Commissar shoved me into the first Sunderer he could find. We were knee to knee by the time we were all jammed in there. We all looked the same, even though you could see our faces through the helmet. Ready to serve. Ready to push back those who want to destroy us. Ready to die for the Terran Republic.
Ready to get that inevitable bullet through my skull. That was one thing I actually wasn't ready for, but it happened. I can't remember what happened.. the nanites wipe your memory of five seconds before you flatline. Fancy, sciency shit like that is beyond me. Though, the rebirthing process is like having a cool water run over you. They simulate it in training, but to actually have it happen. Wow. It felt like a hundred needles were in that water and stuck into my skin after I got out.
These Personal Journals they've given us are really strange. Apparently, part of some test their doing back in the Capital. More science to me. The Commissar is making us write in them every night. What a waste of time. The Commissar looks like some disgraced shit anyway, what is he doing with us grunts?
Shit, the Commissar is looking at me. Looks like it's time to go back at it again. New Sunderer, same shit.
Day 2
I suppose I should write down how I got that bullet through my head. That first Sunderer.. I'll never forget it. I don't think anyone forgets their first Sunderer. Bouncier than an NC bitch on leave, they roll over terrain like it was made of holes. But they do the job. They get you there. Sometimes with guns blazing or with fire under your seat. They're even connected to the rebirthing 'matrix'. Apparently these personal pads correct your writing. Science shit, what am I telling you.
The driver did a little cowboy yell like you see in the vids, 'yeehaw' or some shit like that, when we hit a hill and flew over it into enemy territory. We landed and almost fell out of our seats. Thank the TR for standard seat belts. That's when our Commissar started to yell at us, 'Get ready' and 'Fight like TR' and more of what you hear in training. I was just gripping my TRAC-5 to keep myself from shaking. Looking back, I don't know if I was excited or scared.
The back of the Sunderer practically jettisons itself from the main body before it crashes onto the ground to form a path. I was in the middle and I watched as bullets and explosions splattered the ground outside. The first pair to step out was lucky. We apparently caught them off guard and they were able to make it to cover behind a huge rock. I'm told this is 'coral', but I don't really fucking care PJ (That's what I've nicknamed my Personal Journal. Some guy next to me apparently named his, 'Luperza', after a girl he had a crush on when he was a citizen. What a wanker).
The next pair had the same luck. But by the third pair.. Well, they weren't so lucky. Bullets shot through one's chest, immediately plastering blood across us behind him. The other made it halfway to the rock before being peppered to a melted husk. Even though I got shot in the head, I'm glad I wasn't him. I think he still has a hole in his arm, even after it was recreated.
Rockets splashed the ground outside the Sunderer. It took one direct hit from an energy rocket launcher. 'S1', whatever PJ. The Commissar was yelling at us again, but I couldn't hear him over the blood pounding in my head. Fuck it, I said to myself. I'm just going. I stepped over one guy who was nearly dead anyway.
Bam, explosion, pop, bullet. Shell? What the hell do the Vanu use anyway? Energy? Really? Well, shit PJ, you're actually helpful. Everything went by in a blur. Nothing slowed down, like they say it does in training. The others had the same idea and poured out of the Sunderer behind me. We all broke for the 'coral'. Thanks for reminding me, PJ. I think.. well, 6 of us made it? It was nuts, though. There were dozens of other squads we could see behind the rocks around us. All in the same situation: a shithole made of shit.
We couldn't stay there. The Commissar made it. Figures. He's made of auraxium, that fucker. So he started to yell at us again. The training kicked in, like they said it does. I slung my TRAC-5 around my back and grabbed my ACE and threw it to the ground a few meters from me. More science shit. Nanites, not 'green shit' (Thanks again PJ), formed my turret. Energy bullets, fuck it, just bullets. They were everywhere. All around the damn thing, but that shield held. I was surprised, but hey, I won't complain. The rest of the squad was ready to move. I ran from the rock and slid behind my turret, grabbing one handle and swinging myself into position. I think I got shot in the leg that time, but who cares. I opened up on that hill the Vanu Sovereignty (Not 'scum'. Shove it, PJ). Bullets flew past me and into my shield, but I didn't stop. The squad moved up under my fire, keeping them suppressed. It was the most glorious fucking thing I've ever done. The sheer force coming from me felt like I could take on the whole Sovereignty myself.
Now, I guess I should describe what we were up against.. Hell, this is a long journal. Are they all going to be like this? Fuck it, just keep going.
A hill. Quartz Ridge Camp, I'm told. Fuck you PJ. A hill with walls and towers and rocks all in front of it. The Vanu were crawling all over it, whatever it's called.
But there was a Vanu Sunderer behind those walls and towers and rocks. That was what was keeping us back. So, I unloaded on them. And boy, did they fall like flies. Either from the tower or walls, each bullet seemed to peck one from their perch. Before I knew it, my turret clicked and stopped firing. I had no idea at the time it overheated that fast, but fuck if it didn't make my stomach drop.
That's when I whipped my TRAC-5 back up and started firing, just yelling at the top of my lungs. It was great, PJ. Really, great.
That was when I got the bullet through my head. And.. well, apparently, we had gotten that Sunderer behind the towers, thanks to my great shooting skills, and taken the hill. Camp. Shut up, PJ.
That's where we are now. Sitting beside the Sunderer, eating a bit of our rations. Today was quiet. We were told to hold down here and wait. I'm guessing it's just so that we write in our Personal Journals, but I won't complain about a bit of rest.
I just looked up at the Sunderer. It's got a decal on it that lets the sun shine off of it in a particular way. It's an eagle dripping with blood. How patriotic.
Does the sun ever just.. stay up like this? Fuck off, PJ, I know it doesn't.
Day 3
We're moving out again. But this time it's to the NC front over on Esamir. Fuck, this is going to suck.. The snow never ends there. It's too far north to get the proper amount of heat, but I'm told it doesn't matter with how much we should be moving around. The Commissar was talking to another officer back at Quartz Ridge Camp. I heard the other one say that the Commissar is getting his back scratched on this one or some shit, I wasn't really listening. But it was strange in how he said it, like this is some special mission.
Now, we're all fresh recruits on these missions, but I have a feeling we're going in some pretty special places. From the stories I heard back in the Ridge Camp, most recruits were saying how they've been going on a back and forth on the western side of Indar for weeks now. Another recruit said he's been all over the front line, being that his squad is called 'The Helljumpers'. I don't know what 'Hell' really is, but PJ tells me it's a religious place where all the bad people go when they die. No one really dies, so it's more of an.. ironic title, isn't it?
Whatever. We're going to Esamir right now. We drove that Blood Eagle Sunderer back to the warpgate, another unnecessarily bumpy ride. But hey, at least we know the Commissar's name now: 'Calix'. Really strange name to me. Some of the more senior officers around the gate saluted him and called him, 'Talon'. I don't know what it's all about, but I'm going to assume it has to do with his scar on his face. Apparently, he got them from being away from the grid and getting into a tussle with some Vanu wanderer and some sort of bird.
It doesn't really matter, I guess, but it was an interesting story.. but maybe that'll be for another journal entry. We're stepping through the teleporter. This'll be my first time in a battle-active Galaxy. Should be fun.
I can already feel the fuckin' cold through the damn thing..
The air on Indar is so damn hot. Everything is hot. Hell, there's only one damn place on this piece of shit continent that has green on it. And figures that the Vanu have that part of it, for now at least.
Anyway. The Commissar shoved me into the first Sunderer he could find. We were knee to knee by the time we were all jammed in there. We all looked the same, even though you could see our faces through the helmet. Ready to serve. Ready to push back those who want to destroy us. Ready to die for the Terran Republic.
Ready to get that inevitable bullet through my skull. That was one thing I actually wasn't ready for, but it happened. I can't remember what happened.. the nanites wipe your memory of five seconds before you flatline. Fancy, sciency shit like that is beyond me. Though, the rebirthing process is like having a cool water run over you. They simulate it in training, but to actually have it happen. Wow. It felt like a hundred needles were in that water and stuck into my skin after I got out.
These Personal Journals they've given us are really strange. Apparently, part of some test their doing back in the Capital. More science to me. The Commissar is making us write in them every night. What a waste of time. The Commissar looks like some disgraced shit anyway, what is he doing with us grunts?
Shit, the Commissar is looking at me. Looks like it's time to go back at it again. New Sunderer, same shit.
Day 2
I suppose I should write down how I got that bullet through my head. That first Sunderer.. I'll never forget it. I don't think anyone forgets their first Sunderer. Bouncier than an NC bitch on leave, they roll over terrain like it was made of holes. But they do the job. They get you there. Sometimes with guns blazing or with fire under your seat. They're even connected to the rebirthing 'matrix'. Apparently these personal pads correct your writing. Science shit, what am I telling you.
The driver did a little cowboy yell like you see in the vids, 'yeehaw' or some shit like that, when we hit a hill and flew over it into enemy territory. We landed and almost fell out of our seats. Thank the TR for standard seat belts. That's when our Commissar started to yell at us, 'Get ready' and 'Fight like TR' and more of what you hear in training. I was just gripping my TRAC-5 to keep myself from shaking. Looking back, I don't know if I was excited or scared.
The back of the Sunderer practically jettisons itself from the main body before it crashes onto the ground to form a path. I was in the middle and I watched as bullets and explosions splattered the ground outside. The first pair to step out was lucky. We apparently caught them off guard and they were able to make it to cover behind a huge rock. I'm told this is 'coral', but I don't really fucking care PJ (That's what I've nicknamed my Personal Journal. Some guy next to me apparently named his, 'Luperza', after a girl he had a crush on when he was a citizen. What a wanker).
The next pair had the same luck. But by the third pair.. Well, they weren't so lucky. Bullets shot through one's chest, immediately plastering blood across us behind him. The other made it halfway to the rock before being peppered to a melted husk. Even though I got shot in the head, I'm glad I wasn't him. I think he still has a hole in his arm, even after it was recreated.
Rockets splashed the ground outside the Sunderer. It took one direct hit from an energy rocket launcher. 'S1', whatever PJ. The Commissar was yelling at us again, but I couldn't hear him over the blood pounding in my head. Fuck it, I said to myself. I'm just going. I stepped over one guy who was nearly dead anyway.
Bam, explosion, pop, bullet. Shell? What the hell do the Vanu use anyway? Energy? Really? Well, shit PJ, you're actually helpful. Everything went by in a blur. Nothing slowed down, like they say it does in training. The others had the same idea and poured out of the Sunderer behind me. We all broke for the 'coral'. Thanks for reminding me, PJ. I think.. well, 6 of us made it? It was nuts, though. There were dozens of other squads we could see behind the rocks around us. All in the same situation: a shithole made of shit.
We couldn't stay there. The Commissar made it. Figures. He's made of auraxium, that fucker. So he started to yell at us again. The training kicked in, like they said it does. I slung my TRAC-5 around my back and grabbed my ACE and threw it to the ground a few meters from me. More science shit. Nanites, not 'green shit' (Thanks again PJ), formed my turret. Energy bullets, fuck it, just bullets. They were everywhere. All around the damn thing, but that shield held. I was surprised, but hey, I won't complain. The rest of the squad was ready to move. I ran from the rock and slid behind my turret, grabbing one handle and swinging myself into position. I think I got shot in the leg that time, but who cares. I opened up on that hill the Vanu Sovereignty (Not 'scum'. Shove it, PJ). Bullets flew past me and into my shield, but I didn't stop. The squad moved up under my fire, keeping them suppressed. It was the most glorious fucking thing I've ever done. The sheer force coming from me felt like I could take on the whole Sovereignty myself.
Now, I guess I should describe what we were up against.. Hell, this is a long journal. Are they all going to be like this? Fuck it, just keep going.
A hill. Quartz Ridge Camp, I'm told. Fuck you PJ. A hill with walls and towers and rocks all in front of it. The Vanu were crawling all over it, whatever it's called.
But there was a Vanu Sunderer behind those walls and towers and rocks. That was what was keeping us back. So, I unloaded on them. And boy, did they fall like flies. Either from the tower or walls, each bullet seemed to peck one from their perch. Before I knew it, my turret clicked and stopped firing. I had no idea at the time it overheated that fast, but fuck if it didn't make my stomach drop.
That's when I whipped my TRAC-5 back up and started firing, just yelling at the top of my lungs. It was great, PJ. Really, great.
That was when I got the bullet through my head. And.. well, apparently, we had gotten that Sunderer behind the towers, thanks to my great shooting skills, and taken the hill. Camp. Shut up, PJ.
That's where we are now. Sitting beside the Sunderer, eating a bit of our rations. Today was quiet. We were told to hold down here and wait. I'm guessing it's just so that we write in our Personal Journals, but I won't complain about a bit of rest.
I just looked up at the Sunderer. It's got a decal on it that lets the sun shine off of it in a particular way. It's an eagle dripping with blood. How patriotic.
Does the sun ever just.. stay up like this? Fuck off, PJ, I know it doesn't.
Day 3
We're moving out again. But this time it's to the NC front over on Esamir. Fuck, this is going to suck.. The snow never ends there. It's too far north to get the proper amount of heat, but I'm told it doesn't matter with how much we should be moving around. The Commissar was talking to another officer back at Quartz Ridge Camp. I heard the other one say that the Commissar is getting his back scratched on this one or some shit, I wasn't really listening. But it was strange in how he said it, like this is some special mission.
Now, we're all fresh recruits on these missions, but I have a feeling we're going in some pretty special places. From the stories I heard back in the Ridge Camp, most recruits were saying how they've been going on a back and forth on the western side of Indar for weeks now. Another recruit said he's been all over the front line, being that his squad is called 'The Helljumpers'. I don't know what 'Hell' really is, but PJ tells me it's a religious place where all the bad people go when they die. No one really dies, so it's more of an.. ironic title, isn't it?
Whatever. We're going to Esamir right now. We drove that Blood Eagle Sunderer back to the warpgate, another unnecessarily bumpy ride. But hey, at least we know the Commissar's name now: 'Calix'. Really strange name to me. Some of the more senior officers around the gate saluted him and called him, 'Talon'. I don't know what it's all about, but I'm going to assume it has to do with his scar on his face. Apparently, he got them from being away from the grid and getting into a tussle with some Vanu wanderer and some sort of bird.
It doesn't really matter, I guess, but it was an interesting story.. but maybe that'll be for another journal entry. We're stepping through the teleporter. This'll be my first time in a battle-active Galaxy. Should be fun.
I can already feel the fuckin' cold through the damn thing..